Magic
by brigadoonia
Summary: A short one-shot. RH with timid moonlight dancing. Very sweet. I wrote this a loooong time ago...I'm not sure why I hadn't posted it earlier! Enjoy!


"Magic"  
  
By Bridget Baker  
  
Started 12 December 2002  
  
Original text finished 30 April 2003  
  
Last Edited 20 May 2003  
  
There she is again, putting on her ballet shoes. Every night at ten o'clock, she dons a leotard, skirt and dancing shoes. Her hair is up in a bun- it's so much longer than it used to be. She's wearing that locket again, the one with her parents' picture in it. I know she misses them a lot- she looks at their picture all the time. Ever since that horrible night....but I digress.  
She does some stretches and pliés as an informal warm-up, then presses a button on her DC player, or whatever the bloody thing is called. Then the music starts; she truly opens up.  
Watching her dance is to see a whole other person emerge. Her grace, her fluidity...it's amazing. She sheds her daily façade in favor of her inner self. To see her dance is to be shown a peek into heaven. It makes your heart swell and your soul yearn for more.  
The large bay windows let the only light in to her private room of release- gentle moonbeams pensively reflect off of the polished wood floor. As she turns, the light picks up the slight golden highlights to her mahogany locks. I wish I could join her in pure, untainted joy, even for a moment, but many things weigh heavy on my mind. I do not want to burden her with my problems. Besides, she's been happy by herself like this every night since I arrived, and who am I to disrupt her peaceful solitude?  
I wonder what music she is listening to. Probably not wizard- she always did favor muggle music. At least, you did back when we were in school. So many years have passed with little contact, I feel as if I don't know her anymore. She's changed so much since we graduated.  
She was my best friend. Merlin only knows how many life-threatening situations we got our self in to. It didn't help that we also were best friends with The Boy Who Lived, who was constantly threatened by The Wizard Who Wanted To Make Sure He Didn't. Somehow, he lived to be The Man Who Lived To Marry My Little Sister. They live in Wales, with loads of brilliant little future wizards and witches. They all, of course, look up to their revered Uncle Ron- and why not? - but they always ask why I don't have a wife and tons of cousins for them to play with. Don't get me wrong - I'm not a sworn bachelor. I just haven't found a way to ask The One to marry me. Especially since she doesn't know that I even have feelings for her...  
  
There he is again. Does he honestly think I don't know he watches me? I'm not blind. I just don't know why he does it. You'd think, with our history and all, he's come right in the room if he wanted to see me dance. He's not exactly the shy type. So why is he hanging back?  
Oww. I was lost in my thoughts, and became careless and fell. When I look up, I see him staring back with concern in his eyes. Well Hermione, I think it's time for you to do what you've needed to do for a long time. I motion to him to join me. He looked surprised, but moved out of the window's range of view. A few minutes later, I heard the door quietly shut behind him. I could sense that it was he; I could always sense when he was there, after His defeat. When him and I channeled our powers through Harry to defeat Him, a special bond connected us together. A mind-link, of sorts.  
  
"Are you okay?" he asked in a low, quiet tone that broke the silence. I realized that I was still sitting on the floor.  
"Yeah..." I patted a spot on the floor next to me, inviting him to join me. He came, almost timidly, and silently sat next to me. I became conscious of his form; his breathing; how that one lock of hair was falling over his eyes; his uncharacteristically shy demeanor. As the light of the full moon bathed us, highlighting our strengths and illuminating our flaws- and our vulnerability. At that moment, I realized we were vulnerable. Ever since the final battle with Voldemort, our story had been written down as if we were demi-gods, impervious to pain or fear. But right now, I felt so defenseless. All my emotions were on display for all the world to see. All was exposed- he could read my thoughts...and my heart.  
  
The gentle light of the moon still shone on the polished wood floor. The music continued to play. But the two noticed nothing of this. For they were dancing together, finally. In the light of that gentle, kindly moon, two sorrowful souls melded, and rejoiced at their fulfillment. Clammy hand held clammy hand; innocent eyes never broke with innocent eyes; nervous flesh slowly met its match; quivering lip finally touched quivering lip.  
  
Author's Notes: Well, there it is. Just a really short little one-shot that I thought you might like. Or something.  
  
CREDITS: Title/Story inspiration from the song "Magic" by Ben Folds Five. All characters belong to JK Rowling. The plot belongs to me. 


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